


the best people in life are free

by firefall



Series: you've got the best of my love [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Aromantic Character, Best Friends, Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Late-Night Probably-Illegal Beach Excursions, Love Is Gross, M/M, Matchmaking, Romantic Library Shenanigans, Specifically: Aromantic Bisexual Character, amatonormativity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefall/pseuds/firefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis loves a lot of things and a lot of people, just not the way everyone wants him to.  Niall tries to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the best people in life are free

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of dorm life and the Pacific coast, I set this at an imaginary American university in California. I went a little handwavey with the boys' ages so that they could all be in the same grade, but it's not really that important to the story. Featuring: background Sophiam (RIP), Gryles, and Pesy.
> 
> Warnings for: some swearing, mild underage (by US law) alcohol use, people being very lovingly and gently ignorant re: romantic orientations, a teensy bit of internalized arophobia, and the all-around amatonormativity of #life.
> 
> I think it's important to note that this is written from my own experiences/thought processes as an aromantic person, but it is obviously not the only way to be aromantic. Aromanticism is a spectrum and Louis' character in this fic is only supposed to represent a tiny part of that spectrum.
> 
> Title (obviously) from New Romantics by Taylor Swift because the first time I heard it, I fistpumped wildly and chanted ARO SONG...ARO SONG...ARO SONG!!!!
> 
> This is something I've wanted to write for awhile and honestly it wouldn't exist if my darling Husky (foundfamilyvevo) hadn't encouraged me right and left, yelling about how much she wanted to read it. So thanks Husky for making me feel like it was a story worth telling and for always reading Things and convincing me that I don't suck. LOVE YOU! Also thank you to the mods for putting together this Bang and for being endlessly patient...you're awesome!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone portrayed in this fic and am making no judgments about their characters or personal lives. Mostly.

 

Sophia has really beautiful hair.  It’s soft against Louis’ face and he breathes in happily, the scent of strawberries hitting his nose and making him a little dizzy.  Feeling content and warm, he wraps one dark brown lock around his finger, waiting a beat before he lets go.  It springs back, falling perfectly into place.  Amazing.

 

Across the table, Liam taps his fingers against his coffee cup and raises an eyebrow.  “Why are you here again?” he asks, unimpressed.  “This is a date, Tommo.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Louis pulls his face out of Sophia’s hair and settles back against his chair.  “You’re in the _cafeteria_ , Liam,” he scoffs, gesturing widely at the bustling buffet and rows and rows of occupied tables.  He has to raise his voice a bit to be heard over the roar of his classmates.  “Are you going to kick out the entire student body?”

 

“No,” Liam answers flippantly, taking a sip of his drink.  “Just you.”

 

Sophia laughs at that, reaching over to scritch her nails through the short hair at the nape of Louis’ neck.  It’s all Louis can do not to hum and let his eyes fall closed.  It feels really nice.  “Come on, babe,” she says, putting her other hand over Liam’s on the table.  “He just wants to hang out…besides, I like having him around.”

 

Louis doesn’t even try not to gloat.  Preening, he sits up straighter, grinning at Liam’s pout and scooting closer to Sophia just because he can.  “Yeah, _come on, babe_!”

 

“Absolutely not.”  Liam’s voice is firm, but Louis can see that he’s wavering.  There’s a smile trying to tug at the corners of his lips and his eyes are already starting to crinkle up.  Liam never could stay annoyed long…and especially not at Louis.  It’s probably why they’re still friends. 

 

Friendship or no, Liam still gives Louis a swift kick under the table and asks, “Don’t you have some other couple to follow around?”

 

That makes Louis sulk, poking his bottom lip out.  His list of options has drastically decreased as of late – Nick officially forbid him from tagging along last week when Harry spent the entirety of their date perched in Louis’ lap.  And Perrie and Jesy banned him only yesterday, claiming they were tired of him rating their kisses on a five-star scale.  Apparently it was rude even though he never gave them anything lower than a four-point-five.  “No,” he sighs, feeling the tiniest bit sorry for himself.  “You’re the only ones who currently want me around.”

 

Finally, _finally_ the frown leaves Liam’s face, but it’s replaced by a sadness that’s even worse.  “You know you don’t _have_ to third-wheel all the time, right?” Liam says gently and Louis hates it.  He hates it so much his body goes rigid and wound tight.  He knows exactly where this is going…he’s heard it so many times.  “You could always find someone for yourself!”

 

“That’s not why I do it!” Louis exclaims, hoping they’ll drop the subject.  “I’m not lonely or anything…I just like spending time with you.”  It’s the truth…or as much of the truth as he can put into words.  He can’t figure out how to say _it means a lot to me that you’re in love and yet you still love me, too_.

 

Louis isn’t sure they’d get it.

 

“I like spending time with you, too, mate,” Liam says warmly and Sophia hums in agreement, offering Louis a bright smile.  Louis relaxes a little, thinking the conversation is over, but then Liam adds sagely, “But you should really find a nice girl to go out with.”  Then he shrugs.  “Or a nice boy.”

 

“Or one of each,” Sophia suggests, nodding thoughtfully.  “At the same time.”

 

Louis wants to laugh it off, wants to act like it’s no big deal – because it probably _isn’t_ , is the thing – but there’s a knot in his stomach that’s getting progressively tighter as he listens to his friends excitedly plan his love life.  All he can manage is a feeble sound of protest that gets lost in the chatter of the students around him, laughing into their dinners and having a lot more fun than he is.

 

Feeling ganged up on and uncomfortable in his skin, Louis finally slumps down and puts his head on the table with a bang, narrowly missing his plate of macaroni and cheese but blessedly interrupting Liam’s proposal that he ask out his Western Lit professor because _she’s only twenty-four, bro!_ “Please stop,” he pleads into his paper napkin, that familiar feeling of dread sitting heavy in his belly.  “I’m not interested.”

 

 _Not interested_ is an incredible understatement.  Not only is he not interested, Louis can’t think of anything he’d like to do less than go on a date of his own.  On Louis’ list of least favorite pastimes, dating is right up at the top with going to the dentist and doing Biology homework.  And he really, really hates doing Biology homework.

 

“You haven’t been out with anyone since Eleanor, sweetheart,” Sophia says as if Louis doesn’t know.  He’d be more annoyed, but she’s started tracing lazy heart-shapes across the back of his t-shirt with her finger and it calms him down.  “Maybe it’s time to give it another try.”

 

Louis has every intention of telling them off once and for all, but when he lifts his head out of his plate, he finds Liam studying him intently, concern written across his face.  His eyes are big and brown and lovely and Louis is only human…he gets lost in them for a second before he sighs heavily and throws himself under the bus.  “Fine,” he moans out, already regretting it.  “Find me someone halfway decent and I’ll try it…but only if you promise to never bug me about it again.”

 

Delighted, Sophia claps her hands together with glee.  “Deal!” she crows, her face lit up with the possibilities.  Louis rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the trepidation he can already feel thrumming in his blood.  “We’re going to set you up with someone _amazing_ …I promise!”

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Louis mutters, but his friends are too busy conspiring to notice.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Louis only has two days of peace before Liam and Sophia find him a date.  The guy’s name is Tyler and he’s a senior nursing major, which is pretty cool…but he wants to go out to dinner on Friday night, which is infinitely _less_ cool.  The very thought of it makes Louis’ stomach twist.  Dinner dates are the very worst kind of dates.

 

Once Friday arrives, just about the only thing that keeps Louis from standing the poor guy up is the thought that this is the last time.  Liam and Sophia had promised – no more pushing and no more dates and no more puppy dog eyes if he would let them have this one thing.  The thought is a small comfort, though it can’t quite dry up the sweat on his palms, no matter how many times he wipes them down the front of his jeans.

 

 Louis has the dorm room to himself – Harry’s at Nick’s flat for the weekend – so he doesn’t bother censoring himself as he rifles through his clothes for a proper date outfit and tries valiantly not to panic.  He’s hopping around with one leg in his pants and muttering about _stupid fucking dinner dates_ when the door swings wide and Eleanor walks in, making a beeline for his bottom bunk and barely sparing him a glance.

 

“I’m going to sleep in your bed,” she announces, flopping face-first onto his duvet.  “My cramps are absolutely _killing_ me and you’ve got the squishiest mattress on the whole floor.”

 

Just her presence is enough to send a fleeting feeling of calm washing over Louis’ body and he smiles a little, shaking his head in amusement.  “I’ve got meds in the top desk drawer if you want them,” he offers, finally managing to fling off his skinny jeans onto the floor.  “And you should really learn to knock…I could’ve been naked.”

 

“Oh yeah, that would’ve been terrible,” Eleanor deadpans, rolling onto her back with a groan and sliding beneath the blankets.  “I’d never recover.”

 

Louis snorts.  “Thanks for that,” he rolls his eyes, returning to his fruitless search for a suitable outfit.  He can feel Eleanor’s eyes on him as he pulls shirt after shirt out of his closet, then balls them up and tosses them onto the floor.  Nothing seems _right_.  There’s a squirmy feeling in the pit of his stomach and all his clothes are starting to look like restraints.  Agonizing over what to wear on a date is not something he’s cut out for.  He feels like he’s going to be sick.

 

Swallowing past the bad taste in his mouth, Louis stands in front of his closet in nothing but his underwear and probably would have continued doing so for hours if Eleanor didn’t speak up from behind him.  “So I take it you haven’t told them?” she asks, her voice tired but concerned.

 

It makes Louis flinch.  “That obvious, huh?”  He kicks at the messy pile of shirts somewhat bitterly.

 

“Well, seeing that you’re about to go on a date, I’d say it’s pretty obvious, yeah.”

 

Louis sighs and rakes a nervous hand through his hair, finally turning away from his dreaded closet to look at her.  “He used the _eyes_ , El!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air helplessly.  He doesn’t even have to explain what he means – everyone who’s been around Liam for more than five minutes knows about the _eyes_.  “How am I supposed to argue with that?”

 

Failing to hold back a giggle, Eleanor pulls the covers aside and beckons him over.  “Come here, babe,” she says gently and Louis obeys her instantly, crawling into the tiny twin bed beside her and cuddling as close as he can.  “I think the date can wait a bit.”

 

They lay together in silence for a few minutes and Louis wills his nerves to quiet, his face smashed into Eleanor’s shoulder.  Her hair is tickling his face, nearly as soft as Sophia’s and smelling like the ocean.  The atmosphere is warm and hushed and it reminds him of other times; times when he used to be her boyfriend and was so damn scared because he didn’t want to be.  He remembers them huddled close beneath the blankets as he tried not to cry, admitting that he didn’t – _couldn’t_ – feel that way about her or anyone else.  And as he’d explained how dating relationships felt _wrong_ and _less_ and _fake_ , she’d been the one to look up “aromanticism” on her phone and hold him when the tears spilled over, because finally it all made _sense_.

 

A heavy sigh bubbles up from way deep inside him and he absently presses his lips to her shoulder.  “I can’t tell them,” Louis whispers, feeling like a gigantic weight is sitting on his chest.  “I just can’t.”

 

“You told _me_ ,” she reminds him, but it’s kind and compassionate.  She’s not pushing him – she _never_ pushes – she’s just trying to understand.

 

He shrugs carefully, doing his best not to jostle her.  “I was dating you,” he explains.  “I owed it to you.”

 

Eleanor makes a sad sound in the back of her throat and kisses him fiercely on the forehead.  “You don’t owe anyone anything,” she says seriously, pulling him impossibly closer.  He goes easily, the icky feeling in his stomach dissolving into happy warmth.  “I just think it would make your life easier.”

 

“Well, I _have_ always been a fucking idiot,” Louis replies, only half joking.  “Never could just make things simple for myself.”  Then he huffs a laugh, his breath ruffling Eleanor’s hair.  “Dated the best girl in the school and couldn’t even love her properly.”

 

“Shut up,” Eleanor laughs, pushing him away from her and straight off the bed.  Louis lets out a yelp as he falls unceremoniously to the floor, cold and mostly naked.  “Grab some clothes and go get this stupid date over with.”

 

Grumbling and rubbing his elbow where it banged off the floor, he scoops up the closest t-shirt from the pile and pulls it over his head.  He does the same with a pair of black pants and some neon striped socks until he’s fully dressed, looking more like he’s heading to class than a date.  It’s comforting in a way.

 

He spins in the middle of the room like a princess showing off her gown.  “How do I look?” he asks, crossing his eyes and making a stupid face.

 

Eleanor just shoos him away, curling up into a tiny ball in his bed.  “You look lovely, darling,” she says dismissively.  “Now go out there and knock him dead.”  Then she seems to think better of it.  “Just try not to do it literally.”

 

“I make no promises,” Louis says with a smirk and blows her a kiss goodbye, ready to meet his doom.

 

_-_-_-_

 

There was a time when Louis wouldn’t have bothered to hide his discomfort and his disdain, but he’s learned.  It’s not Tyler’s fault that Louis’ brain is broken…there’s no reason to make the poor guy feel like shit.  So rather than shying away when Tyler greets him with a hug and a warm smile, Louis hugs him back and even remembers to say _thank you_ when he holds the door.

 

Tyler is tall and handsome and friendly just like Liam and Sophia promised, and all at once Louis wishes he could be any of those things.  But instead he’s just uncomfortable, out of his element, and unattractively _sweaty_ as he follows his date to their table.  Everything inside Louis is screaming for him to turn and run away, but he fights through it and even manages not to hide behind his menu like a child.  It’s a small victory, but Louis will take what he can get.

 

The restaurant isn’t fancy – they’re broke college students, after all – and Tyler is the perfect balance of well-spoken and funny, so Louis finds himself relaxing in spite of himself.  In between bites of their meal, they chat about school and family and plans for the future.  Being a foreign student means that Louis is never at a loss for things to talk about, so any time the atmosphere goes heavy and a bit awkward, he offers some little anecdote about Doncaster or living overseas.  All in all, it’s not the worst date he’s been on, but that doesn’t change anything.

 

It doesn’t mean he wants to be there and it _definitely_ doesn’t mean he wants to do it again.

 

Once they’ve finished their dinners and exhausted all conversation topics, Tyler graciously pays the bill, waving off Louis’ half-hearted protests.  As they walk out together into the slight chill of the night, Tyler offers him a grin and bumps his arm into Louis’, just a little nudge to let him know he’s there.  “So,” he says, walking close enough on the sidewalk that Louis can feel the heat of him through his thin t-shirt.  “You wanna come back to my apartment?”

 

Chewing on his lip, Louis contemplates saying yes for a whole three seconds before he thinks better of it.  The guy looks so hopeful…it would be cruel to give him even the tiniest bit of promise that there could ever be another date.  “Sorry,” Louis says lamely, hoping he sounds more apologetic than he feels.  “I’ve actually got a _ton_ of stuff to do this weekend, so I’ve gotta get back as soon as possible.”

 

Tyler’s face drops.  “Oh…okay,” he mumbles slowly, clearly disappointed.  Then he forces himself to smile again, his face lit up in the street lights.  “Some other time then!”

 

Because Louis is a fucking gentleman, he doesn’t say _don’t count on it, pal!_ like he wants to.  Instead he pushes up onto his tip-toes to press a kiss to Tyler’s cheek, giving him a noncommittal grunt that he hopes will end the conversation.  “This was fun,” he tells him and it’s only half a lie.  Dates are gross but he could’ve done – and _has_ done – much worse. 

 

Apologies made and kisses given, Louis turns on his heel and heads back in the direction of his dorm building.  His feet want to sprint down the sidewalk, itching to get away from the situation, but Louis hangs onto the last shred of his dignity and forces himself to keep an appropriate pace, walking with his head held high and not looking back.  It’s surprisingly difficult.

 

The walk back to his dorm is almost two miles, but it’s a beautiful night and the cool air sinks into his clothes, washing away the discomfort beneath his skin and easing some of the tension out of his shoulders.  By the time he can see his building at the top of the hill, his whole body is loose and lazy and all he wants to do is flop onto his bed and pass out.

 

He’s so focused on digging his keycard out of his pocket that he doesn’t notice the biker coming down the hill until they nearly crash into him.  “Watch out!” the boy shouts in a blur of color and Louis lets out a yelp, jumping out of the way just in time and falling straight on his bum in the dew-soaked grass.

 

“What the hell?” he cries, clutching at his chest where his heart is doing its best to climb out of his body.  “You trying to kill me?”

 

“Shit, Louis…I’m so sorry!” the biker bursts out in a familiar Irish accent and for the first time Louis realizes he knows the kid.  Niall jumps off his bike, sending it skittering into a bush, and races to Louis’ side, almost slipping over in his haste to reach him.  “Are you okay?”

 

Taking Niall’s hand, Louis lets himself be pulled to his feet.  “I think I broke my ass, but yeah…I’m okay,” he jokes, brushing little bits of grass off his pants.  “Where are you going in such a hurry?  It’s almost eleven, mate.”

 

Niall grins, his retainer glinting in the light from the fluorescent street lamps.  “I should be asking you the same question!  Shouldn’t you be at a party somewhere?  Or are you getting dull in your old age?”

 

“Hey!” Louis protests, curling his hand into a fist and faking a swing, bumping Niall ever so lightly in the jaw.  Laughing, Niall plays along, flinching to the side like he’s been hit.  “I’ll have you know I was on a _very_ important date.” 

 

“Ah, I see.”  Niall nods, putting on his serious face and scratching at the tiniest little smattering of stubble on his jawline.  “Very serious business.  A matter of life and death.”  Then he drops the act, slinging an arm around Louis’ neck and leading them over to the bush where his bike has been laid to rest.  “I thought you hated dates.”

 

It bids Louis pause, his body going still in surprise.  “I do,” he says, studying Niall curiously.  “How did you know that?”

 

Niall shrugs, dragging his bike from the vegetation and squeezing at the handle brakes to see if they’re in working order.  “You talk about it sometimes,” he says matter-of-factly and Louis breathes a laugh.  _Sometimes_ is a bit of an understatement.  “And it seems to me that if you’re so adamant about hating them, you should just…stop going on them.”

 

Louis smiles wryly, his lips pressed tightly together.  “It was a set-up,” he explains, scuffing the toes of his trainers into the wet grass.  “Liam and Sophia are trying to find my one true love or something.”

 

That makes Niall throw his head back, laughter wracking his entire body.  “Of _course_ they are!” he crows, because if there’s anyone that knows about Liam and Sophia it’s Niall.  Being Liam’s roommate since freshman year means he’s been the victim of their evil matchmaking more than once.  “They can be a bit overwhelming, but they mean well.”

 

“I know,” Louis admits, smiling to himself in the dark.  “I love them a lot.”

 

Niall hums in agreement then throws his leg over his bike, clearly satisfied that it’s not any worse for the wear.  “So how do you feel about late-night, probably-illegal beach excursions?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at Louis.  “Better or worse than dates?”

 

“Infinitely better all around,” Louis tells him, nodding decisively.  “Is that what you’re gonna do?”

 

“No,” Niall corrects him, waggling a hand at Louis as if to say _come on then!_   “That’s what _we’re_ gonna do.”

 

Delighted at the prospect, Louis only hesitates a second before he climbs onto the pegs of Niall’s bike and wraps his arms around his friend, holding on tight.  Letting out a whoop that’s much too loud in the pre-midnight stillness, Niall rides the rest of the way down the hill, taking a sharp turn at the bottom that makes Louis gasp out a frightened breath.  But regardless of his past mistakes, Niall is a competent rider and gets them to the main sidewalk safely.

 

Their dorm is only a short trek from the ocean, so Niall takes it as fast as he can, making Louis screech every so often, his heart pounding where it’s pressed up against Niall’s back.  But once he can see the beach up ahead, he breaks into a smile and laughs out loud, Niall’s own cackles echoing back to him.  His whole body goes warm despite the chilly air.

 

Where the sidewalk meets the sand, Louis hops off the back and Niall throws his bike to the ground.  “I’ll beat you to the water!” Niall cries, throwing Louis a mischievous smile and taking off down the beach before Louis can even process the challenge.  He kicks up sand behind him as he goes, scuttling like a little blonde crab.

 

Even with the head start, Louis passes Niall easily, giving him a playful shove in the shoulder as he runs by.  At the water’s edge he kicks off his shoes and socks before plunging into the waves, soaking his pant legs and yelping as the freezing water sends goosebumps pricking at his skin.  “Abort mission!” he cries, unable to hold back a wave of full-body shivers.  “Too cold!”

 

But when he turns back to look at Niall, his friend has stripped down to his underwear, leaving his clothes in a sandy pile.  “Never!” he says, wagging his finger at Louis disapprovingly.  “What’s a late-night, probably-illegal beach excursion if you don’t even get your hair wet?”

 

The question hanging in the air, Niall leaps into the water and ducks down, letting a particularly strong wave crash over his head and sweep him back to shore.  He’s quiet beneath the water for a moment or two, but then he jumps to his feet howling and spitting.  “Holy _shit_!” he shouts, curling in on himself and hopping from foot to foot.  “ _Fuck_ , that’s freezing!”

 

“I told you!” Louis laughs from where he’s now safe on dry sand, the loud waves roaring in his ears.  “You’re crazy, lad!”

 

Instead of arguing, Niall kicks some ocean water Louis’ way and demands, “It’s your turn now!  If I’m dying from hypothermia, I’m taking you with me.”  His grin takes on an evil glint.  “In fact, I _dare_ you.”

 

Niall knows he’s got him – Louis can see it in the smug set of his jaw in the moonlight.  “ _Screw you_ ,” he hisses, knowing the soft words will be swallowed up by the waves.  Groaning and regretting it already, Louis pops the button on his pants and shoves them down around his ankles until he can fling them off.  His t-shirt follows after until he’s standing in the middle of the beach in practically nothing, just like Niall.

 

“If I turn into an ice cube, it’s on you,” Louis warns, clenching his hands into fists and bracing himself for the cold he knows is coming.  Niall doesn’t seem too worried – he _applauds_ , the little bastard – and before he can talk himself out of it, Louis lets out a single loud shriek and throws himself beneath the waves, letting the icy water sting at his bare skin like pinpricks. 

 

It’s even worse than he thought it would be.

 

He pops out of the water screaming, rubbing wetness out of his eyes and stumbling backwards until he’s sprawled out across the dry beach, sand sticking to every inch of his body.  “Why would you make me do that?” he cries, pulling his knees up to his chin to conserve body heat.  His hair keeps dripping freezing water into his eyes.  “That’s the second time you’ve almost killed me tonight, Horan.”

 

Niall flops down next to him, close enough that their shoulders touch.  It’s a single spark of heat in the midst of the ice coursing through Louis’ veins and he scoots closer without even realizing. “Got your mind off the date, didn’t it?” Niall asks, but it’s not really a question.  He knows it’s true.  “Besides, it builds character.”

 

Louis snorts.  “Right, well, next time you want to build my character, give me a fucking hammer or something.”

 

“Mate, that’s worse than Harry’s jokes,” Niall says, his voice full of faux pity.  He reaches over to muss up Louis’ wet hair.  “I think you’ve got salt water between your ears.”

 

It’s easy and it’s lovely and suddenly Louis is so, so grateful for Niall.  He’s felt uncomfortable all day – all _week_ , really – but at that moment on the beach, dripping wet and shaking within an inch of his life, Louis finally feels like things might actually be alright.  Like _he_ might be alright no matter how broken his brain feels sometimes.

 

Throwing caution to the freezing Pacific wind, Louis leans his head on Niall’s shoulder and mumbles, just loud enough to be heard over the roaring ocean, “I love you, bro.”

 

At his words, Niall goes completely still, but Louis has known him long enough not to worry.  Niall feels things with his whole body – sometimes it takes him a little bit longer to sort through everything in his head.  Sure enough, a few seconds pass and then Niall lays his head on top of Louis’ and answers, his tone sincere and sweet, “I love you too, man.  Even if you do got seaweed for brains.”

 

It makes Louis laugh, but he shoves Niall over all the same.  He predicts the handful of sand that Niall throws at him and leaps to his feet to get out of the way.  Before the situation can devolve into a giant sand fight, Louis holds his hands up in surrender and pleads, “C’mon…I _really_ don’t want to have to rinse off again, do you?”

 

Niall drops the sand instantly.  “No fucking way,” he says with so much passion, it crinkles his brow up.  “We should probably go back anyway.  I’m supposed to get breakfast with Brez in the morning and he’s all about that ‘early rising’ shit.”

 

They gather up their clothes and shoes, brushing the sand from their legs until it becomes clear that it’s a lost cause.  Giving up, they wrap their pants around their necks like scarves and head back to campus in just their shirts and underwear.  It’s Friday night – everyone will be too drunk to notice.

 

The short bike ride back to their building is much colder than before, but Louis clings to Niall and buries his face in his windblown blonde hair and it makes it bearable.  They both live on the third floor, so Niall walks Louis to his bedroom, giving him a hug goodnight.  Louis has his hand on the doorknob, ready to take his leave, when Niall says something so quietly he almost misses it.  “You don’t have to do things you don’t wanna do, Louis.”

 

Louis looks at him quizzically.  “What?”

 

“The dates, I mean,” Niall explains, his expression soft.  “You don’t have to do them if you don’t wanna.”

 

If anyone asks, Louis will blame it on the late hour and the bone-deep chill that’s taken over his body, but tears spring to his eyes at his friend’s words.  He stares at the floor, hoping Niall hasn’t noticed.  “Hey thanks, man,” he says gruffly, swallowing hard.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Then, before he can second-guess himself, Louis leans in and gives Niall a quick kiss on the cheek.  It’s his second kiss of the night, but instead of feeling sick about it, this one sends a lightning bolt of _happy happy happy_ zinging through his body.  “Goodnight, Niall,” he murmurs, a smile pushing its way onto his face without his permission.  “And thanks for everything.”

 

“Shut up,” Niall answers, taking off for the room he shares with Liam.  He’s smiling, though, and it makes Louis laugh quietly as he finally enters his dark bedroom.

 

Eleanor is asleep in his bed just like she said she would be, so Louis slides in next to her and cuddles close.  She wakes up just long enough to mumble a sleepy _hey lovey_ before she’s out again, turning on her side to give him more room.  He spoons up behind her, letting her warmth seep into his frigid bones and calm the shivers that he’s still not been able to shake.  Her words from before echo in his head – _I just think it would make your life easier_ – and his eyes fall closed, Niall’s laughter ringing in his ears.  Right before he drifts off to sleep, he thinks _maybe_.

 

_-_-_-_

 

When Louis wakes up it’s to a heavy weight on his stomach and Liam’s face a mere inch from his.  “How’d it go?” Liam asks, his breath tickling Louis’ cheek.  “Was it amazing?”

 

Louis groans, his brain slow with sleep and his eyes crossing, unable to focus on the boy right in front of him.  Fleetingly, Louis thinks that if he moved at all they’d probably bump noses.  Rather than test it out, he moans, “Mate, I love you, but if you don’t get off me I’m gonna piss all over this bed.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Liam says, not sorry at all.  He shifts off Louis’ bladder to lie next to him, filling the spot where Eleanor had slept the night before.  She’s long gone…she must’ve snuck out while Louis was still dead to the world.  Liam props himself up on an elbow so he can peer down at Louis and it’s barely a second before he’s right back at it.  “You gotta tell me how your night went!”

 

Louis can still feel sand between his toes and salt in his hair which, objectively, is really gross, but it makes him smile happily to himself.  “It was really cold,” he tells Liam, relieved to find that a night in his bed has finally chased the chill out of his bones.  “But really awesome, too.”

 

That makes Liam light up like Christmas.  “You liked him?” he cries, grabbing onto Louis’ wrist and shaking him, unable to hide his excitement.  His smile is so big his eyes have nearly disappeared.  “Louis, that’s so great!” 

 

Confused, Louis is about to say “why wouldn’t I like Niall?” when it all comes rushing back to him like a slap in the face.  Liam’s not talking about Niall…Liam’s talking about the _date_.  The date that Louis has already filed away into the Never Happened section of his brain. 

 

Of course. 

 

“Oh um…yeah,” Louis stutters, feeling like a trapped animal.  Suddenly, it’s way too hot beneath his covers and he throws them off, trying to shake the cornered feeling.  “Yeah, he was fine.”  Then, because he knows what’s coming, he stares up at the bottom of Harry’s empty bunk and adds as casually as possible, “We won’t be doing it again though.”

 

A glance over at Liam shows that the boy is crestfallen.  His bottom lip is poked out in a pout that would be adorable if Louis wasn’t too busy feeling like a shitty friend.  There’s nothing quite as painful as making Liam sad.  “I really thought this one would work out,” Liam says, his eyebrows knit together.  Then his grip tightens on Louis’ wrist, his eyes beseeching.  “You know you deserve the best person in the world, right?”

 

Despite how the thought makes his stomach roll, Louis finds himself melting.  He breaks out of Liam’s grip just long enough to give him a little pat on the chest.  “Then it’s a good thing I’ve got you, isn’t it?” Louis says softly, too sleepy to be embarrassed. 

 

Liam’s face goes pink, clearly pleased.  “It’s not the same.”

 

Louis wants to argue, wants to grab Liam’s face and shout _yes it is!_ but instead he just gives Liam’s nipple a pinch.  Liam barely flinches, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.  “Whatever,” Louis sighs, stretching until his back cracks and wriggling his sandy toes.  “You gonna let me take a shower or are you gonna spend all day rolling around in my bed lamenting my lovelife?”

 

Wrinkling his nose, Liam gives him a little punch on the shoulder.  “Definitely gonna let you shower…you _stink_ ,” he complains, then giggles at himself like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard.  “I was just too polite to say anything.”

 

“A model of morality, you,” Louis says dryly, rolling out of bed and getting a whiff of himself.  Okay, yeah, he really does stink.  He hates it when Liam’s right.

 

While Louis gathers his shower supplies, Liam toddles back out of his room to go lovingly terrorize some other poor soul, tossing a cheery “wash behind your ears!” over his shoulder that makes Louis roll his eyes so hard they almost fall out of his head.  Just as he’s trying to figure out how to open up the door without dropping everything, Louis’ phone goes off from where it’s hiding in his blankets.  “Shit…it’s Saturday,” he mutters to himself, letting everything fall to the ground and diving across the room.

 

When he finally clicks into Facetime he’s out of breath.  “Hey Mum!” he greets her while the screen’s still black, not even bothering to check the ID.  She calls every Saturday at noon, no exceptions.  It’s the best way they’ve found to combat the distance…and make sure that Louis actually gets out of bed.

 

“Hi honey!” she cries once the picture appears, her face lit up in a smile.  She’s got Dotty in her lap, the little girl sucking on her tiny fingers and babbling nonsense.  Louis’ heart aches in his chest.  He hasn’t held his baby siblings since the summer break.  “You’re a sight for sore eyes!”

 

It’s super sappy and Louis wants to laugh at her, but instead he grins like a fool and basks in it.  He loves his mum so much.  They talk just like they always do, trading stories about school and home and the hospital, and Louis gets a lump in the back of his throat when he finds out Dotty had taken her first steps just that morning.  He plays it off, coughing into his fist and leaning closer to the screen to coo at his little sister.  “You’re getting so big!” he says, his voice a high-pitched singsong.  Dotty just blinks at him, unimpressed.

 

Inevitably, the conversation circles back around to Louis’ life and his mum asks the same question she always does.  “So, are you seeing anyone yet?”

 

Louis sighs so heavily his shoulders actually heave.  He was hoping maybe, just once, they could skip this part.  “No, Mum…I told you I’m not looking for that right now.”  _Or ever_ , he adds in his head, but for what is probably the first time in his life, he keeps his mouth shut.  No use getting her worked up.

 

She clucks her tongue at him like he’s a little kid, her face wistful.  “Well, don’t worry about it,” she says, maternal comfort lacing her tone.  “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.  You still have a year and a half left!”

 

“I’m _not_ worr—” Louis starts wearily, but she cuts him off, continuing passionately, “Just because it didn’t work out with Eleanor, doesn’t mean it won’t work out with other people…there are _tons_ of options in that big fancy school of yours!”

 

Louis lets her babble on about _someone for everyone_ and _patience_ and _the right person_ , growing increasingly uncomfortable and annoyed by the second.  She’s really upped her Life Coach game – he can’t get a word in edgewise, no matter how hard he tries – and even though he knows it’s all coming from a place of love and affection, it’s still more than Louis can handle.  When she starts talking about soulmates, Louis knows he has to do something and he has to do it _now_.  He can’t keep putting himself through this.

 

He has to tell her. 

 

But when he opens his mouth to do so, he’s shocked to hear himself cry, his voice screechy with panic, “I went on a date with Niall!”

 

And that’s just…not what he meant to say at all.  But it makes his mum gasp in delight, breaking into a huge smile that looks like sunshine even over Facetime.  “Baby, that’s incredible!” she exclaims, excitedly giving Dotty a kiss on the head that Louis knows is supposed to be for him.  “He’s the one you met at the Pride Center, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Louis confirms in a daze, feeling like the world is spinning too fast and he can’t catch up.  If he wasn’t sitting already, he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass.  “And the club for foreign students.”

 

He’s not going to say more, but then she looks at him expectantly with an enthusiastic “well?” and he thinks _fuck it_.  He’s already dug the hole; he might as well bury himself in it.  Maybe the universe will be kind and put him out of his misery.  “He’s my boyfriend.”

 

His mum squeals, so happy Louis is almost afraid she’ll start crying.  Louis, on the other hand, is numb, his body still and cold as the word _boyfriend_ plays itself over and over in his head like a broken record.  It isn’t until he’s rung off and trekked to the shower, hot water beating down on his head, that he fully realizes the gravity of the situation.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” he breathes, leaning against the cold shower wall.  This is the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Even on a campus so large, it doesn’t take long to find Niall.  When Louis catches sight of him walking back from the student center after lunch, whistling and swinging his lanyard around his wrist, Louis pounces on him, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him over to crouch behind one of the giant oak trees.  Niall goes easily – just like he does everything else – only giving Louis a quizzical look for his troubles.

 

“What’s with all the sneaking around?” he whispers, momentarily losing his balance and tipping over a little.  Louis puts his hand out to steady him, catching him before he can topple to the ground.  “Did you finally kill someone?”

 

Louis doesn’t spare a moment to be offended by the implication, bursting out in a blind panic, “I need you to be my boyfriend!”

 

Niall falls silent, staring at Louis with his mouth hanging open.  When he finally regains his voice, he seems more amused than anything else, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile.  “You know, of all the things you could have said there, I expected that the least.”

 

Feeling himself on the edge of chickening out, Louis plows onward, saying in a rush, “I’m not being funny, Niall…I need you to be my boyfriend!  I already told my mum you are!”

 

Thoughtfully fidgeting with the ends of his bleached hair, Niall settles himself down in the dirt, leaning casually against the trunk of the tree.  “Okay,” he agrees, grinning like Louis hasn’t just made a completely unrealistic request.

 

All the air whooshes out of Louis’ lungs as his stream of prepared pleas and explanations dies on his lips.  “Wait,” Louis cries in disbelief, his eyes huge.  “That’s it?”

 

“Yeah sure!” Niall answers with a shrug, cheerful and unbothered.  “It’s no big deal…it might be nice if you told me _why_ this is happening though.”

 

His hands trembling in a mixture of relief and nerves, Louis clears his throat, trying not to choke on his spit.  “It’s kind of a long story,” he says sheepishly, feeling his cheeks pink up a bit.  This isn’t a situation he thought he’d ever be in.

 

Niall just smiles at him softly, blue eyes bright and almost blinding.  “It’s Saturday, mate…we’ve got plenty of time.”  Then, without being prompted, he pulls off his sweatshirt and spreads it across the dusty ground, giving it a little pat and beckoning for Louis to sit.  “Why don’t you tell ol’ Nialler everything?”

 

“Ol’ Nialler,” Louis mutters mockingly under his breath, mostly to cover up how touched he is by the gesture.  His face getting redder by the second, he scoots to sit on Niall’s sweatshirt, pulling his knees up to rest his chin on them.  For the second time that day he’s afraid his heart is going to beat out of his chest.  It’s not the way Louis envisioned coming out – hiding behind a tree in the middle of campus and sweating buckets – but he’s got no one to blame but himself for getting into this mess in the first place.  So, figuring it’s now or never, Louis takes a deep breath and finally blurts for the very first time, “I’m aromantic!”

 

And just like that, it’s out there.  It’s in the air, hanging heavy and swirling around them, making Louis hide his face in his knees.  There’s no going back now and he feels distinctly like he’s going to throw up.

 

There’s a moment of silence and then Niall lets out a low whistle.  “Damn,” he whispers with such emphasis it almost sounds reverent.  “No _wonder_ you hate dates.”

 

Louis laughs a little hysterically, sitting up so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash.  “They’re _terrible_ ,” he exclaims, his voice wobbling frantically.  “The absolute worst!”

 

“And you told your mum that we’re boyfriends because…?”

 

Miserable, Louis takes a shaky breath in and then another one out, trying to calm down.  “Because I’m so sick of it, Niall!” he cries, then quickly drops his voice to a whisper when a group of boys comes traipsing past their tree carrying golf equipment.  “I’m sick of dates and matchmaking and disappointing me mum and people not taking ‘no’ for an answer and feeling like there’s something wrong with me…!”  He cuts himself off abruptly, mortified to feel his throat tighten with tears.  It isn’t until that very moment that he realizes just how _tired_ he is.  He’s exhausted.  “I just want them to stop!”

 

His face crumbling in concern, Niall sadly murmurs “oh _babe_!” and lunges across the dirty ground to throw his arms around Louis’ shoulders.  He squeezes him tight and Louis buries his face in Niall’s neck, shivering with emotion but feeling safer than he has in a very long time.  They sit quietly for a few minutes, Niall’s fingers digging into Louis’ skin because he’s gripping so hard.  After a while he says, “Don’t worry…I’m gonna be your boyfriend and everything is gonna be fine.”

 

“ _Fake_ boyfriend,” Louis mumbles into Niall’s skin because it’s _important_.  There’s a difference and he needs Niall to understand.

 

“Yes, of course… _fake_ boyfriend,” Niall corrects, pulling away and letting his fingers trail lightly over Louis’ cheek.  It makes Louis’ stomach flip.  “The best damn fake boyfriend in the world.”

 

Though he’s still shivering, Louis manages to smile at that.  Haltingly, he wonders, just needing to hear it out loud, “So you don’t think it’s, like, weird or…made up or something?”

 

Niall shakes his head emphatically.  “Not even a little bit.  I really only know what I read in a pamphlet at the Pride Center, so I’ll have questions and shit, but if you feel it, it’s definitely real.”  He pokes Louis in the belly.  “Don’t forget that.”

 

“Okay,” Louis says and pokes him right back.

 

_-_-_-_

 

The question comes three hours later as Niall is sorting through his dirty laundry, tossing armfuls of tops – including his muddy sweatshirt – into the dorm washer.  Louis, true to form, is being lazy, letting his dirties pile up in the bottom of his closet, getting dirtier by the day.  “So you’ve never had a crush on _anyone_?  _Ever_?”

 

Louis laughs from where he’s perched on top of the dryer, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in months.  It feels _so_ good not having to pretend anymore, even if it’s only with Niall.  “Yeah, that’s part of what makes me aro, bro.”

 

Digging through his pockets for spare change to feed to the machine, Niall makes a face like _oh yeah_.  “Right…I guess that makes sense.”

 

“It’s like I’ve got a platonic filter in my brain or something,” Louis explains, scooting back on the dryer so the heat can soak through his jeans, mixing with the contentment running through his veins until he feels warm all the way down to the bottom of his feet.  “I can’t tell when things are supposed to be romantic…everything comes up ‘friends’ to me.”  He shrugs.  “And that’s all I want anyway.  The thought of spending my life with one special person really grosses me out and makes me uncomfortable.  I just wanna love people how I love people and I wanna love _a lot_ of them and I want that to be enough, you know?  I don’t want everyone to see it as second best or the precursor to something _more_.”

 

“You want it to be the _most_ ,” Niall finishes for him, nodding thoughtfully.  Louis’ heart gives a little squeeze and he can’t stop himself from leaning across the dryer to ruffle Niall’s hair.  “You want your friendship to be just as important as everyone’s romance.”

 

It hits close to home, like a memory of friends that found someone more exciting and girls that stopped calling when he never expressed interest, and Louis presses his lips together in a hard line.  He doesn’t say that it’s why he third-wheels all his friends, but he probably doesn’t have to.  He thinks Niall’s figured it out.

 

“So I’m just warning you,” Louis says, trying to shake the unwanted raincloud that’s appeared over his head.  “I’m gonna be a _very_ terrible fake boyfriend.  I don’t even know what boyfriends _do_.”

 

“For starters, they tell people,” Niall suggests, pulling his phone from his back pocket and swiping it open.  “Which is why I thought I could send this to all our friends.”

 

The draft says _Just asked Louis to be my boyfriend and he said yes!!! Legend!_ followed by a string of random emojis.  The red heart is very obviously missing and it chases Louis’ bad feelings away.

 

“Do it,” he orders, not letting himself overthink it.  “Just get it over with.”

 

Permission granted, Niall presses ‘send’ and the deed is done.  Louis sucks in a deep breath.  Hopefully everyone has their phones off…he’d like to postpone the inevitable as long as possible.

 

Once Niall switches his laundry from the washer to the dryer, he offers his hands to Louis and helps him back to the floor.  “You know what else boyfriends do?” he asks, his eyes sparkling teasingly.  “They go and get ice cream while their clothes are drying.  The older one pays, of course.”  He lowers his voice to a playful whisper.  “That’s you!”

 

“You’re just with me for my money,” Louis jokes, but then he grabs Niall’s arm and pulls him out of the loud, stuffy laundry room and drags him down the hallway.  “Let’s do it!”

 

They ride Niall’s bike the couple city blocks to the ice cream shop downtown, Louis’ phone vibrating against his butt the whole way.  He ignores it – he’ll have to be half-drowned in a chocolate milkshake before he’s ready to deal with that.  

 

Once they’ve ordered, they sit on the same side of the table because, according to Niall, “that’s what boyfriends do.”  Giggling at the absurdity of it all, they feed each other bites of their ice cream, making a giant mess and streaking their faces in chocolate and strawberry.  Then, just because, they clean each other up with napkins, saying “sweetheart” and “darling” and any other sappy pet name they can think of.  It’s silly and it’s fun and Louis can’t stop smiling, the world painted bright and vibrant and _alive_.

 

They must be convincing too, because as they’re throwing their trash away, one of the employees gives them a wistful smile.  “You’re very lucky,” she says, gesturing between the two of them.  “You don’t find that just anywhere.”

 

Pleased as punch, Louis grins at Niall, feeling like he’s pulled off the best prank of all time.  “You sure don’t,” he agrees, exaggeratedly fluttering his eyelashes at his friend.  “There’s only one Niall and I’m glad he’s mine.”

 

_-_-_-_

 

His friends are predictably obnoxious and over the top about the whole affair.  As soon as Louis and Niall push open the door to the third floor, they’re swarmed by a bunch of grabby hands and loud shouts of “congratulations, boys!”  Even Harry and Nick are there, having come straight over as soon as they heard the news.  It’s as touching as it is dumb.

 

Leigh-Anne and Jesy are grinning from ear to ear – though Jesy does make a flippant comment that sounds suspiciously like _stupid boys deserve each other_ – while Sophia and Jade take turns smacking celebratory kisses to their cheeks, cooing over what a cute couple they make.  Perrie’s squeezing Louis’ hand so hard he’s afraid it’s going to break and Liam…Liam looks like he’s about three seconds from bursting into tears.  “I knew you’d find someone,” he cries, his eyes misty.  “Louis, this is so great!”

 

Setting aside his discomfort, Louis takes the comment as the affectionate well-wish it is.  “Thanks mate,” he says sincerely, putting Liam in the gentlest headlock possible.  “I guess you were right for once.”

 

Liam just laughs beneath Louis’ arm, wiping at his eyes.

 

Then Eleanor breaks through the throng of people, mirth written across her face.  Shaking her head, she wraps her arms around Louis in a warm hug, kissing him on the ear before murmuring, “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

 

“I know,” he whispers privately, for her ears only.  He’s got butterflies flying around in his belly as he breathes her in.  “Love you,” he adds quietly, because he needs her to know.

 

She just slaps him on the butt in response, pushing away to wrinkle her nose at him.  “No sappy stuff,” she orders, her eyes a lovely mixture of fond and evil.  “Unless it’s with your _boyfriend_.”

 

Across the mob of ridiculous people, Harry has koala-ed himself against Niall’s back, hanging on for dear life and shouting “you take care of my roommate!” at the top of his lungs while Nick looks on, hearts in his eyes.  It’s sweet.  Louis is glad Harry has him, even if he doesn’t understand it.

 

At Harry’s outburst, Niall only laughs, shooting Louis an amused glance over everyone’s heads.  “Don’t worry…I’ve got his back!” he cackles and Louis believes him.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Over the next few days, Louis learns more and more things that boyfriends do.  Apparently boyfriends hold hands and walk each other to class and call each other “babe” and cuddle in the backseat – all things that Louis accepts with a minimal amount of scoffing, no matter how badly he wants to shout, “That’s what friends do, too!”  But when Niall mentions that boyfriends study together, Louis just can’t keep quiet.

 

“You’re meaning to tell me that _studying_ is romantically coded?” he asks, voice nearly squeaking in disbelief.  “Is that really what you’re saying right now?”

 

Niall giggles, holding his hands up in self-defense.  “Don’t take it out on me!” he cries between hacking chuckles.  “Doing _anything_ together often enough is romantically coded!”

 

It’s the most ridiculous thing Louis has ever heard.  “Let me get this straight…if two people take out the rubbish together every day, people are going to think that they’re in love?”

 

“Some might,” Niall admits, though his face says he knows it’s silly.  “They have a clear bond, things in common, and a mutual goal, after all.”

 

“Allos are fucking weird, man,” Louis says matter-of-factly, shaking his head.  No wonder so many people back in school had accused him of leading them on…he had no idea that dedicating time to a person could be construed as romantic interest.  Just another way his brain is broken, he supposes.

 

“Listen, we really should do that though.”  When Louis looks at him blankly, Niall explains, “Study together.  Finals are in two weeks and I don’t know about you, but me mother isn’t going to let me come home for winter hols if I fail my classes.”  Here he pitches his voice high and adopts an even thicker Irish accent that’s clearly supposed to be Maura.  “ _Would you cop yourself on, lad?  Stop wastin’ money and carryin’ on and embarrassin’ me ‘round town_.”

 

“I think my mum’s so happy I’m not gonna die alone that she wouldn’t even care if I dropped out,” Louis laughs, but he agrees to it all the same.  He’s got to do better this year if he doesn’t want to lose his scholarship for foreign students.  American university is expensive as hell…if they drop his funding, he might as well get a one-way ticket back to Doncaster.

 

Their minds made up, they walk across campus hand-in-hand, blending in with the other couples that pass them by.  It bothers Louis a little knowing what people must assume about them, but Niall’s hand feels warm and soft and _right_ where it’s laced with Louis’, so he puts it out of his head.  He can’t win them all.

 

But he _can_ kiss Niall on the cheek, so he does, getting a happy giggle in return.  It’s exactly what Louis was hoping for.

 

They snag a corner of the library, flopping down into the squishy chairs and spreading their books and papers around until it looks like an academic tornado swept through the area.  Niall buckles down immediately, pouring over his Calc II notes and twirling a pencil around in his fingers.  Louis, on the other hand, sets his Business Management Profession textbook in his lap and doesn’t even glance at it.  Instead he surveys the room, letting his eyes slide from one group of students to the next.

 

To his shock, Niall is right.  Most kids are studying in pairs, their chairs pulled close together so they can lean on each other or hold hands as they turn pages.  Studying really _is_ a boyfriends activity and he can’t decide whether he wants to laugh or cry.  He decides on laughing, but his mocking snicker sticks in his throat when his eyes fall on two familiar girls huddled around a laptop.  It’s Perrie and Jesy.

 

“Mate,” Louis whispers, kicking his foot up to tap Niall on the knee.  “Look who else is on a study date.”

 

Ever the perfectionist, Niall finishes scribbling something down in his notebook before he looks up.  When he sees their friends, his face lights up with a happy smile.  “They’re so cute,” he says and Louis can tell he’s not taking the piss.  Niall has always been too mushy for his own good.  It makes Louis want to protect him.

 

“We’re cuter,” Louis says grandly, his tone quiet but allowing for no argument.  Then he gets an idea – a wonderful, obnoxious, _romantic_ idea – and sets his textbook onto the floor.  He won’t be needing it any time soon.  “How about we show them just how cute we can be, eh?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.  “They want us to be boyfriends?  We’ll be the cutest damn boyfriends they’ve ever seen.”

 

His eyes going wide, Niall chokes a laugh behind his hands.  “What, you gonna give them a show?”

 

Humming his assent, Louis grins wickedly and stands from his chair, picking up his textbook just long enough to drop it to the floor again with a loud _bang_.  Satisfied that all eyes are on them – including Perrie and Jesy’s, Louis notes – he breathes out, “Just like _this_.”  He slinks across their study area to slide into Niall’s lap, shoving his calculus work to the side.  Then he settles himself against Niall’s chest, tucking his head beneath his chin.  Wanting to sell it, he cranes his neck up to whisper in Niall’s ear, “Pretend like I’m saying something really cute and funny and charmingly witty…it shouldn’t be hard considering I’m cute and funny and charmingly witty.”

 

Louis can feel Niall shaking with laughter.  “You’re _crazy_ , Tommo,” he whispers, the words ruffling Louis’ hair.  “Just plain _crazy_.”

 

“Crazy about _you_ ,” Louis singsongs, squirming a little to get more comfortable.  Niall doesn’t answer, just strokes his fingertips softly down Louis’ arm.  It’s really nice…it makes Louis’ eyelids get heavy.

 

Eventually Niall makes a grab for his notebook, cracking it back open but making no move to shove Louis off of him.  Even as he turns pages and murmurs formulas under his breath, Niall’s fingers never stop their movements against Louis’ skin.  It’s not an act anymore – their friends stopped watching a long time ago – but Louis doesn’t mind.  It’s what boyfriends do, sure…but it’s also what Niall and Louis do and that’s much, much better.

 

The library is nearly silent and Louis is exhausted from his seven a.m. class, so he soon dozes off, Niall’s steady breathing lulling him into a half-sleep.  But even in his dreamlike state, he doesn’t miss Jesy hissing as she walks by, presumably leaving with Perrie, “Haven’t you two dickheads ever heard of getting a room?”

 

Louis hides his grin in Niall’s t-shirt.  Mission complete.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Despite being fake boyfriends, things are pretty much the same as they always were, except they hold hands and go to meals together more often.  It further adds to Louis’ long-held theory that romantic attraction is all some huge conspiracy put into place by the government to distract people from finding out about the aliens.  When he mentions it to Niall, his friend breaks into rasping laughter, rolling straight off Louis’ bottom bunk, his body wracked with giggles.  “What the fuck do you got in your head, mate?” he wheezes, the whole room lighting up with his happiness.

 

“Not much,” Louis admits wryly, unable to hide his grin.  “Wanna play Fifa and let me whup your ass?  As boyfriends?”

 

And that’s basically how it goes.  They do lots of mundane things as boyfriends – they eat breakfast as boyfriends and go to class as boyfriends and even sit on benches as boyfriends – and it’s really easy and fun.  Niall, like always, is up for anything and always asks before he holds Louis’ hand or shows him off to one of his engineering friends, going out of his way to make sure that Louis is comfortable.  It makes Louis’ heart feel too big for his chest.

 

What isn’t the same, however, is everyone else.  Louis hasn’t heard the phrase “the right person” since they dropped the news, so he reckons the plan is working.  It’s more than he could have hoped for.

 

That Friday, two weeks after Louis’ date with Tyler and a mere three days before finals start, the Pride Center has an unofficial party at one of the frat houses, hosted by the club’s vice-president.  It’s Louis and Niall’s first party as fake boyfriends, so they decide to go all out.  They run back and forth between their dorm rooms, looking for matching outfits and trying on each other’s clothes.  When they finally settle on light skinny jeans and black tank tops, they stand in front of the mirror together, grinning in satisfaction.  “We look great,” Niall says decisively, clapping Louis on the shoulder.

 

“I’d date us,” Louis agrees.  “We’ll be the cutest couple there.”

 

From his top bunk, Harry peers down at them like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.  “You’re worse than me and Nick,” he exclaims, awed.  “And we’re pretty terrible.”

 

Niall just winks at Louis in the mirror.

 

The party is already in full swing when they arrive, Harry and Nick at their heels.  Music blasts from the surround sound speakers, vibrating in Louis’ bones.  All their friends are there – even Liam and Sophia have managed to wander in, somehow – and they all shout and raise their glasses in greeting when the four of them enter the packed common area.  Yelling back, Niall and Louis waste no time grabbing drinks from the cooler in the kitchen while Harry and Nick head straight for the DJ.  They’ve got some catching up to do.

 

As they make their way through the house, people Louis only vaguely knows slap him on the back in greeting and it feels like everything uni is supposed to be.  It’s too loud and too hot and too crowded, but everywhere he turns are friendly faces, and all the people he loves most are jammed onto the dilapidated couches in the corner.  They’re all laughing about something – they probably don’t even know what – and in that moment Louis is helplessly in love with every single one of them.

 

“You gonna cry on me?” Niall shouts, trying to be heard over the music.  “You’re making that _face_.”

 

“I don’t have a _face_ ,” Louis snaps through an ear to ear grin even though he’s been told by multiple trustworthy sources that he does, in fact, have a _face_.  “I’m just thinking.”

 

Niall shudders.  “Don’t do that, bro,” he jokes.  “It bites you in the ass every single time.”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

They make their way steadily over to their friends, Louis already planning where he’s going to fit his bum on the full couch – right in Sophia’s lap, just to hear Liam complain about it – but they get cut off by Eleanor, who breaks away from the girl she’s chatting up to throw an arm around each of their necks.  “How’s the happy couple?” she cries and not even alcohol can completely erase the hint of sarcasm in her voice.

 

“Super fucking aro!” Louis shouts because it feels great to say it and they’re far enough away that none of their friends could possibly overhear.  “And nowhere near drunk enough to be having this discussion.”

 

Taking pity on him, Niall grabs ahold of the conversation and steers it elsewhere.  “So Eleanor,” he starts, leaning close so she can hear him.  “In your expert though slightly drunk opinion, what do boyfriends do at parties?”

 

Delighted, Eleanor gives them a smirk.  “I think they find an empty bedroom.”

 

Wanting to hear her say it, Louis plays innocent, tilting his head to one side.  “And then what do they do?”

 

“Then they—” she starts, but Niall breaks in with an enthusiastic “play cards!” before she can finish her statement.

 

Now it’s Louis’ turn to be delighted.  “Yes!” he cries, clapping his hands together.  “We should _totally_ play cards!”

 

Eleanor’s looking at Louis like he’s just sprouted an extra nose.  “How is it that you’ve actually managed to get _worse_ at being a boyfriend?” she asks, but there’s so much tenderness etched into her face that it feels like a loving caress.  He bumps his head softly into her shoulder, so grateful and happy that ending their “relationship” didn’t mean losing his best girl.

 

And now his best boy is grabbing him by the arm, finally pulling their little group over to the couches where Louis flops into Sophia’s lap, just like he planned.  And, just like Louis predicted, Liam complains loudly, his words slurring together.  But Sophia just hugs Louis around the waist and holds him there and soon enough Liam has forgotten to be annoyed.

 

Alcohol is a beautiful thing.

 

They all sit and talk excitedly in each other’s faces for a while, breaking long enough to cheer Harry on as he runs through the room with a rainbow flag held over his head for no apparent reason.  The whole business is shockingly graceful and he only trips once, which Louis thinks is probably a new record.  When he turns to tell Niall, his friend is blank-faced, curled in on himself where he’s perched on Nick’s knee.  Louis’ brow crinkles in concern.

 

Ever so gently, he runs a finger over Niall’s jawline to get his attention.  When he looks up, Louis mouths, “You okay?”

 

Nodding, Niall leans in so close his lips touch Louis’ ear.  “Let’s play cards,” he whispers, looking pointedly at the staircase that leads to the second floor of the house.  “Please?”

 

Apprehensive, Louis agrees right away, pulling Niall up by the hand and leading him away, ignoring the hoots and hollers their friends throw after them.  Though the floorboards are pulsating with the pounding of the bass beneath, the upstairs is muted and quiet.  It’s not hard to find an empty room and Louis closes the door firmly behind them, locking it.  Then he settles onto the bed, gesturing for Niall to join him.  “Is something wrong?” he questions, studying Niall’s face for clues.  “You’re freaking me out a little, babe.”

 

“Oh no, don’t be worried…I’m fine!” Niall rushes to say, ignoring Louis’ invitation to sit in favor of pacing back and forth across the carpet.  It doesn’t make Louis any less concerned.  “It’s not a huge deal, it’s just the noise and the people…it gets to be too much after a while.”  He laughs a little, but this time it’s nervous and unnatural.  “It crawls under my skin sometimes and I can’t scratch it out.  You know what I mean?”

 

Louis thinks he probably does know.  “Yeah,” he says quietly, then suggests, “You wanna go back to the dorms and be alone then?  Liam won’t be home for hours…I could walk you back and then give you some space, if you wanted.  Maybe get some sleep?”

 

But Niall shakes his head, finally having a seat next to Louis on the bed.  “Nah.  I’m okay here with you.  I just need some time.”

 

Finally convinced that Niall isn’t pretending to be alright, Louis jumps off the bed and starts searching through the drawers.  It turns out the owner of the bedroom actually _does_ have a pack of cards in their desk and he holds it up, giggling with glee.  “Poker or Old Maid?” he asks, just to be stupid.  Niall doesn’t even dignify the question with a response.

 

They play poker for what’s in their pockets and Niall wins every single round.  By the time Louis’s broke, Niall has an impressive assortment of gum wrappers, loose change, and a single McDonald’s receipt sitting in front of him.  It’s mostly just trash, but Niall’s eyes are bright and happy again, which is what’s most important anyway. 

 

Despite turning their noses up before, they end up playing Old Maid.  Just as Niall pulls the queen from Louis’ hand, Louis asks, suddenly curious, “Have you ever been in love, Niall?”

 

If the question surprises Niall at all, he doesn’t show it.  Tucking the Old Maid away into his pile and shuffling the cards around, he shrugs.  “Yeah, just once I think.”

 

In the hush of the quiet room, Louis feels brave and he wonders, “What did it feel like?”

 

Knowing neither of them is keen on finishing the game, Niall drops his cards to the bed, emphatically flicking away the Old Maid like it offends him.  Louis snorts, but drops his too.  “It just felt like…a lot,” Niall says, his face thoughtful.  “Like a lot of butterflies and wanting her to be a part of everything in my life, even the really dumb things.  And whenever I was around her, things just felt better and brighter, I guess.  Even when she wasn’t around, she was with me, if that makes sense.”  Then he huffs out a laugh, cheeks going red with embarrassment.  “But that must sound pretty stupid to you, doesn’t it?”

 

“No!” Louis says quickly, not wanting Niall to feel awkward.  “Not stupid at all!  It just sounds like friendship to me, honestly.”

 

The blush slowly fading, Niall smiles shyly.  “Fair enough.”

 

Louis goes on, prompted by the quiet and the alcohol, “It sounds kinda like how I feel about you, actually!  But not just you.”  Realizing how that sounds, he wags his hands around in what he hopes is an apologetic way.  “No offense!”

 

To his relief, Niall only looks amused.  “None taken.”

 

“Yeah, not just you, but Eleanor too.  And Liam and Harry and Sophia and Perrie and the rest of the girls.”  He laughs a little.  “Even Nick sometimes, when he can take his eyes off of Harry long enough to realize I’m there.”  Then he goes quiet, feeling safe enough with Niall to talk uninhibited.  “Sometimes I look at you guys and I feel like I’m looking at the whole world.  So it’s hard feeling like I’m only a part of yours.”

 

It’s more than he meant to say, but thankfully Niall doesn’t tell him not to feel that way.  Gently, Niall puts a hand in the middle of Louis’ chest, pushing him down to lie on the bed.  Then he lays down right next to him, pillowing his head on Louis’ shoulder.  “I love you,” he says simply and it really does help.  “We all do.  Just know that.”

 

“I do.”

 

It’s quiet for a few minutes until Niall starts digging around in his back pocket, jostling the bed.  It goes on for an absurd amount of time before Niall lets out a triumphant _aha!_ and comes away with a little black box in his palm.  If Louis hadn’t been quiet already, he would’ve been stunned to silence.  Before Louis can properly freak out, his stomach twisting in panic, Niall holds a hand up to shush him.  “I know you’re about to pass out on me, but it’s not a wedding ring, okay?  I’m not that stupid.”  He drops the box on Louis’ chest with a hollow _thump_.  “Just open it.”

 

Louis does as he’s told, nerves lacing his blood despite Niall’s promise.  But, just like Niall said, it’s not a wedding ring.  It’s a necklace and when Louis unwinds the black leather cord, he finds a little wooden arrow nestled inside.  He knows immediately what it means.  “An arrow for the aro,” he says, breaking into a grin.  “I get it.”

 

When Niall speaks, his words come out in a slightly desperate gust of air that Louis can feel even through his shirt.  “I know it’s dumb and you don’t really wear jewelry and it’s not even the pride colors, but I saw it and I thought maybe you’d like it.”  He turns so his face is smashed into Louis’ shoulder, muffling his voice.  “I just want you to know that everything you are is okay.  That it’s enough.”

 

He looks like he’s gearing up to say more, but Louis just can’t deal with that.  If Niall keeps this up, Louis is going to cry and it’s not going to be pretty.  “Hush, Niall, I _love_ it,” he chokes out, pulling his friend so close it’s hard to tell what limbs belong to who.  “You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

 

“Mmm,” Niall mumbles, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist.  “I’m glad.”

 

Knowing where this is going, Louis reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in blackness.  “We’re gonna fall asleep in this guy’s bed,” Louis says matter-of-factly, shimmying down to get more comfortable against the pillow.  “And there’s nothing he can do about it.”

 

Niall laughs lightly in the dark, pressed close.  “No arguments here.”  Then he squirms a little, adding, “You know we’re gonna have to do the walk of shame tomorrow, right?”

 

“Niall, please,” Louis says wisely.  “It’s only a walk of shame if you feel bad about it.”

 

Then they sleep.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Thanks to Niall’s insistence that they study as boyfriends, Louis receives his highest marks ever on his finals.  He’s so pleased with himself, he prints his transcript and sticks it to the back of his bedroom door, letting it wordlessly boast at anyone that should walk by.  Niall is proud too – so proud, in fact, that he buys Louis a milkshake at that same ice cream shop downtown, bringing it back to campus so they can share it under their oak tree.  This time Louis remembers a towel to sit on.

 

Louis is the first one to leave for winter hols – or _vacation_ as the Americans so lovingly remind him eighty-seven times a day – and his friends send him off with hugs and kisses and joking reminders not to forget about them.  They’ve squished him so full of love and warmth that the very thought is ludicrous.  He’s not going to forget them for as long as he lives.

 

He’s a little bit sad when he finally gets to Niall, placing a kiss in the middle of his forehead and hugging him tight.  “Take care of yourself, mate,” he orders, but it’s gentle.  Niall clutches onto the back of Louis’ shirt, nodding silently like he doesn’t trust himself to talk.  “I’ll see you next year.”

 

When Louis gets on his plane, he ties the necklace around his neck, tucking it beneath his t-shirt.  It’s time to go home.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Doncaster is lovely and familiar and fucking _freezing_.  Louis had forgotten what it was like to live in a place that actually drops below beach weather, but he soon grows used to it again, taking Daisy and Phoebe out sledding and bundling Ernest and Dotty into matching coats so they can watch from the sidelines, tucked into their little red wagon.

 

He stays up late watching TV with his mum and Dan and lets Lottie paint his nails, practicing her technique for when she goes to beauty school.  He’s not an expert by any means, but she seems to be doing pretty well even if she does scold him for biting his nails down into pathetic little stubs.  Even Fizzy decides to make time for him, inviting him to see Justin Bieber’s concert movie along with her friends.  He loves her so much that he makes himself say yes.

 

One by one his friends come back from schools scattered around England and he catches up with them, too.  He tells them about his boyfriend – _fake_ boyfriend, he wants to say – and they’re all thrilled if a bit surprised.  Zayn, in particular, seems shocked.  “I never thought I’d see the day _you_ started dating someone,” he laughs, throwing an arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulling him in for a congratulatory hug.  He’s quick to add, his golden eyes soft and kind, “It would’ve been fine if you never did, though.”

 

Sometimes Louis thinks Zayn knows.

 

Being at home is great and he’s never at a loss for things to do, but two weeks into their five-week holiday, Louis finds himself missing Niall.  He had been concerned that without his friend there to help him sell it, his mum would figure out he was lying – mums have a way of doing that – but he needn’t have worried.  Because the thing is, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shut up about Niall.

 

It’s weird going from doing literally everything with someone to not seeing them for weeks on end.  It’s sad and Louis feels like a clingy girlfriend, but dammit…he’s allowed to miss his best friend.  So he does, very loud and very often.

 

It’s when he’s in the middle of complaining that no one in Doncaster buys him milkshakes that his mum puts down her magazine and suggests, her voice steady with the patience of a woman who has seven children, “If you miss him so much, why don’t you invite him over?”

 

Taken aback, Louis stares at her.  It feels like his brain is short-circuiting.  “Huh?”

 

“Honey,” she says gently, very obviously trying to bite back her laughter.  “You clearly want to see him, so just invite him over!  He can take the ferry.”

 

It’s so simple Louis wants to kick himself for not thinking of it first.  “Okay!” he agrees, excitement fluttering in his belly at the possibility.  “Okay, yeah!  That’s a great idea.”

 

He only spares about a second to wonder if Niall will be too busy to make the trip before he sends off a text that says _Fancy coming up for a couple days???_   He adds his random emojis and no red heart.

 

The answer takes less than five minutes.  _Yah!  Me mother says it’s fine as long as I’m back b4 Xmas hahahaah_

 

If Niall comes in tomorrow, that gives them three days.  It’s good enough for Louis and he lets out a whoop and fires off a _xoxoxo_ that he hopes communicates just how happy he is.

 

He gets a single poop emoji back, so he figures it does.

 

It isn’t until that night when he’s rolling around in his bed trying to fall asleep that the words _meet the parents_ pop into his head.  It sends a squirmy feeling washing over his skin and he swallows against it, trying to put it out of his mind.  Exhausted with the effort it takes not to fret, he finally sinks into sleep.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Any misgivings he had melt away when Niall steps off the bus, rumpled from his long trip but smiling so bright it would put the sun to shame.  “Tommo!” he cries, dropping his backpack into the snow to throw his arms around Louis.  “I can’t believe you’ve survived this long without me!”

 

Laughing, Louis hugs him back, squeezing hard.  The sensation is so familiar and comforting and _right_ it makes his stomach flip and his heart go fuzzy like a warm, fleecy blanket.

 

“He hasn’t, really,” a voice speaks up from behind them and Louis whirls around to glare at his little sister.  Lottie shoots him a little smirk then turns her attention to Niall.  “Survived without you, I mean.  He’s been whining ever since he got home.”

 

The way Niall throws his head back and cackles with his entire body almost makes up for the blush Louis can feel spreading across his face.  Almost, but not quite.  “This is Lottie,” Louis introduces her darkly, crossing his arms.  “Don’t listen to a thing she says because she’s a fucking _child_ and doesn’t know any better.”

 

Lottie sticks her tongue out at him.  “I’m almost sixteen and Mum is gonna _flip_ if she hears you swearing like that,” his sister warns, wagging her finger like she’s his parent or something.

 

“Then don’t tell her!” Louis shoots back, grabbing Niall’s backpack off the wet ground and swinging it onto his shoulder.  He takes Niall’s hand, a gesture that’s almost second-nature at this point, and leads him the car.  “Anyway,” he says brightly, ignoring the way his sister is impatiently pulling on the door handle, waiting for him to open it.  “Welcome to Doncaster!”

 

Beaming, Niall gives Louis’ hand a squeeze.  His eyes are as blue as the crisp winter sky and Louis almost has to squint to look at him.  “I love it already.”

 

At the house, the seven remaining members of Louis’ family come pouring out the front door in their pajamas, practically pouncing on Niall in their haste to meet him.  Niall, for his part, takes it all in stride, ruffling the older twins’ hair and taking the baby twins’ little hands in his, cooing at them.  Then he waves to Fizzy and leans over to give Louis’ mum a kiss on the cheek, thanking her for her hospitality.  Last, he turns to Dan.

 

Dan is tall and strong and quite a menacing figure if you don’t know him – and sometimes even if you do – so Louis doesn’t begrudge Niall the nervous twitch in his fingers as Dan surveys him, raising an eyebrow.  “Ah, so _you’re_ the boy he keeps whining about.”

 

Louis huffs petulantly, putting his hands on his hips.  No matter what his family says, he has _not_ been whining.  Honestly.

 

“I have to say,” Dan goes on, his face unreadable, “I’m not very happy about it.”

 

Mortified, Louis turns to his stepdad with a look of outrage and Niall says uncertainly, “sir?” while scratching at his arms nervously.  “I’m sorry?”

 

Just when Louis is about to scoop Niall up bridal-style and run back to Ireland on his own two feet, Dan breaks into a smile and starts laughing.  “I’m just messing with you, kid,” he says, giving Niall a manly slap on the shoulder.  “It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

 

Clearly relieved, Niall lets out a sigh that sounds bigger than he is.  “Cheeky,” he laughs good-naturedly and just like that he’s a part of the family.

 

Since it’s Saturday, Louis’ mum is home from work and she organizes a baking day, setting out stacks of recipe books and piles of ingredients.  She gives Louis and Niall an out, asking pointedly, “Hey didn’t Stan have plans for you today?” but Louis’ youngest sisters protest loud enough to drown her out.

 

“No, you’ve gotta stay and make biscuits with us, Lou!” Phoebe begs, grabbing onto Louis’ arm so tight she starts to cut off the circulation.

 

Daisy, always the braver of the two, does the same to Niall, looking up at him with wonder.  It would be hilarious if Louis wasn’t afraid his arm was about to fall off.  “Please?” she pouts, making her eyes big and blue and a little bit wet.  That trick hasn’t worked on her family in years, but Niall hasn’t had time to build up his immunity yet…he might just be weak enough to succumb to it.

 

And succumb he does.  He turns to Louis and mimics her pout, begging, “Yeah, please Lou?  _Please_ can we stay and make biscuits?”  His eyes are dancing merrily like he knows Louis is going to say yes.

 

“Ugh, _fine_!” Louis groans, throwing his hands in the air.  It makes his sisters cheer and jump around in excitement, so he finds he doesn’t actually mind that much.  “But only if we can make a batch of double chocolate.”

 

“And peanut butter,” Niall sneaks in from where Daisy has herself wrapped around his leg.

 

“And peanut butter,” Louis agrees.  “Can’t forget the peanut butter.”

 

The kitchen is tiny and cramped, but they throw themselves into their biscuits wholeheartedly, taking turns stirring and making dough balls to put on the baking sheets.  In what feels like no time at all, they’ve got nearly six dozen biscuits on the cooling rack just waiting for Santa – and Louis’ friends – to eat them up.

 

At the sink, Louis catches sight of Niall smudging a wet paper towel over Phoebe’s cheek, trying his best to wipe the flour away.  It’s a bit overwhelming and Louis breaks into an embarrassingly big smile.  There’s nothing quite as nice as seeing your fake boyfriend fit in so seamlessly with your family…though he might be the only person in the world that knows that.

 

Warm and happy, Louis strides over, grabbing a paper towel of his own.  “Your turn, love,” he teases, rubbing it over the smear of melted chocolate at the corner of Niall’s mouth.  “I swear you’re as bad as the babies.”

 

“Wah,” Niall makes a pitiful cry sound, then reaches over to push Louis’ hair out of his eyes.  “You love me.”

 

“Kinda, yeah,” Louis teases then bursts into laughter when Fizzy shouts out the kitchen door, her nose wrinkled in disgust, “Muuuuum, the boys are being gross in the kitchen!”

 

“Then leave, sweetie,” she calls back, sounding unbothered.  Louis raises a triumphant fist in the air, stepping closer to Fizzy to gloat in her personal space.  He always knew he was one of his mum’s favorite sons.

 

She proves it by letting him and Niall skive off washing the baking dishes, leaving them to play COD in the basement.  She doesn’t make them do the dinner dishes either.  Or the dessert dishes.  If Louis knew getting a fake boyfriend would mean less chores, he would have done it a long time ago.

 

At bedtime, Louis’ mum snags him in the hallway before he can go into his room.  “He’s really great, Louis,” she says, her smile serene and satisfied.  “I’m so glad you two are together.  He’s exactly the kind of guy you deserve.”

 

“I’m glad we’re together, too,” Louis tells her, though he doesn’t mean it the way she does.  It’s okay though… _he_ knows what he means and that’s enough for now.

 

He kisses her goodnight and she pokes him in the chest before he can walk away.  “Remember that there are kids in this house, Louis,” she warns him, nodding toward his bedroom where Niall has probably already fallen dead asleep at this rate.  “None of that…stuff.”

 

“Mum!” he hisses, his face going red.  “Nothing’s gonna happen!”

 

“See that it doesn’t,” she says primly, spinning on her heel to go to her own room.  She winks at him before she disappears though, which kills the statement a little bit.  Pink-cheeked, Louis just shakes his head.  Parents are strange.

 

He’s still blushing when he crawls into his childhood bed next to Niall, grateful for the darkness.  “You awake?” he whispers, scooting close until their sides are pressed together.  Niall is like a little heater, his warmth soaking into Louis’ bones despite the lightly falling snow outside his window.

 

“Yeah,” his friend answers, finding Louis’ hand beneath the covers and lacing their fingers together.  He waits a couple beats before he says, sounding hesitant, “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Louis isn’t sure what he expected, but it’s not for Niall to turn over and lay his head on Louis’ chest, whispering into the blackness of his room, “How would you feel if I said I really wanted to kiss you?”

 

At his words, Louis’ heart drops to his stomach.  All of a sudden it’s like the bed is too small and the blankets are too hot and his room is too suffocating and he wants to _cry_ , because Niall _can’t_ feel like that.  He _can’t_ or everything they’ve built together over the past weeks – every good and perfect and _easy_ thing – will be ruined.  Because, no matter how hard he tries, Louis is never going to be able to feel the same way.  His body starts trembling from the inside out and it’s like he’s twelve again, shivering and shaking as the pretty neighbor girl with the red hair says she has a crush on him.  Except this time it’s Niall and Louis is absolutely _petrified_ of losing him.  “Niall,” he tries and then his voice cracks, panic tearing at his skin like it hasn’t in weeks.  “Niall, I...”

 

Niall must hear it in his voice, because he nearly sends them both careening off the bed in his haste to grab at Louis, scrambling until he’s lying right on top of him.  “Oh no…Louis, _no_!” he exclaims desperately, cupping Louis’ burning cheeks in his hands.  “That’s not what I meant!”

 

It does nothing to calm the shivers, Louis’ heart pounding where it’s pressed up against Niall’s.  His voice is small and shaky when he asks, “Then what _did_ you mean?”

 

“I meant I wanna kiss you.”  Niall’s words are soft and so are his hands when he smooths back Louis’ hair, looking down at him with so much affection in his eyes that Louis can see it even in the moonlit darkness.  “Because I like kissing and I like you.  That’s all.”  He grins crookedly.  “We don’t have to, of course.  I just wanted to see how you’d feel about it.”

 

The tension drains from the room and once again it feels warm and safe and familiar.  Ever so slowly, Louis’ heartrate returns to normal and he lets himself melt against the mattress, Niall a comforting weight against his body.  “I _do_ like kissing,” he admits quietly, feeling light as a feather with relief.  “A lot.”

 

“Then don’t think too much,” Niall murmurs, leaning in close enough that their noses brush together.  Louis inhales sharply.  “Sometimes things don’t have to be complicated.”

 

And just like that, Louis decides to stop thinking.  Happiness blooming in his chest, he slides his fingers into the back of Niall’s hair and pulls him down for a kiss, his mum’s warnings all but forgotten.  As soon as their lips brush, Louis makes a pleased sound in his throat, his hands fumbling beneath the duvet to rest gently on Niall’s back.  It’s a kiss with no ulterior motives – no expectations and labels and _I love you_ ’s – and Louis can’t get enough.

 

A shiver running down his spine, Louis flips them over to press Niall into the sheets, but when he goes to deepen the kiss, he pulls back in disgust.  “You didn’t even take your retainer out?” he whisper-screams, torn between laughing and shaking Niall by the shoulders.  “Niall!”

 

Unashamed, Niall just slams his head back into the pillow and cackles, his entire body shaking.  “I didn’t exactly plan for this!”

 

It’s much too loud in the silent, sleepy house and Louis slaps a hand over Niall’s mouth, shushing him urgently.  “My parents are literally right next door,” he murmurs through his teeth, his ears pricked up for any signs of movement outside their bedroom.  They both go still for a few seconds, listening.  When there’s no sound, Niall grunts something that sounds like _get off me_ behind Louis’ hand and he complies, wiping the residual dampness into Niall’s t-shirt.  “Okay, but really,” Louis breathes, sitting up and digging his bum into Niall’s belly.  “You gonna take that thing out?”

 

“As my fake boyfriend, you’re supposed to accept me the way I am!” Niall protests, trying his best to keep his voice down at an acceptable level.  Then he grins.  “But yes…yes, I am.”

 

The offending piece of plastic tucked away in its case on the bedside table, Louis picks up where he left off, leaning in to catch Niall’s lips with his.  This time it’s quieter, lazier.  They kiss until they can’t anymore, their eyelids drooping and bodies going heavy.

 

Wrapped up in blankets and warmth and Louis, Niall drifts off to sleep easily, his chest rising and falling steadily.  Louis follows soon after. 

 

_-_-_-_

 

They decide to celebrate Louis’ birthday a day early before Niall has to go back to Ireland.  It’s a last-minute decision, so Louis’ mum splits her time between preparing food and yelling about how there isn’t enough hours in the day to get everything done.  Finally, once she’s burned one cake and dropped another, Louis convinces her that store-bought goodies will be just fine and she runs out the door in a whirlwind of perfume and panic, leaving Louis and Niall to watch the babies.

 

Dotty is ecstatic about her new-found freedom and spends most of the day toddling back and forth between Niall and Louis, waiting expectantly for them to clap every time she makes it across the lounge.  Ernest hasn’t quite mastered the art of walking without falling, so Louis lets the little boy cling to his fingers and leads him around, talking in a baby voice about what a big, grown up boy he is.  He isn’t sure Ernest believes him.

 

When Louis has to help Ernie up for the fourth time in a row, he offers Niall a sheepish grin and apologizes, “I bet you didn’t think you’d spend the weekend babysitting when you agreed to come visit.”

 

Instead of answering, Niall scoops up Dotty and flies her through the air like Supergirl.  “They’re such little loves,” he says, swooping by to stick his tongue out at Ernie and make a silly face.  “I don’t mind, Louis.  I just wanted to see you.”

 

Ducking his head, Louis smiles to himself.  “Okay,” he shrugs, deciding to take Niall’s words at face value and stop worrying about it.  It’s like Niall said, sometimes things don’t have to be complicated.

 

The thought bounces around in his head, nagging at him until he sighs and sinks onto the sofa, letting Ernie drop softly to his bum on the carpet.  The little boy is unbothered – he just grabs the closest toy and puts it in his mouth without argument.  Louis, on the other hand, squeezes his eyes shut tight and grits out, “I think I want to tell our friends.”

 

Niall stops his zooming instantly, lowering Dotty onto his hip.  “You think so?” he asks carefully, putting the baby down next to Ernest and joining Louis on the couch.

 

Louis nods seriously.  “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” he admits, his mind ringing with _it’ll make your life easier_ and _everything you are is okay_.  He scoots closer to Niall, leaning heavily against him.  Without hesitation, Niall puts an arm around his shoulders, connecting them like puzzle pieces.  “I used to be really scared, but I’m kind of…not anymore.  I feel like I’m okay, you know?  Like I don’t have to pretend to feel things I don’t feel or want things I don’t want.”  He turns to look at Niall, smudging a little kiss along his jawline.  “And you helped with that a lot, so thank you.”

 

“Just doing my job,” Niall jokes but Louis can tell he’s pleased.  His cheeks have gone a little red and blushy.  “What’s a fake boyfriend for, after all?”

 

“That and making me pass uni,” Louis laughs, then goes serious again.  “Being aro is such a huge part of me – like, it affects so much of my life – and I just really want them to know.  It’s important to me and so are they.”

 

“That’s really amazing, Tommo.”  Niall’s grin is wide.  “You know I support you every step of the way.”  Then his face goes cloudy for a split second before it’s gone again, his smile back in place.

 

“What?” Louis questions, worried.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s nothing,” Niall says, shaking his head.

 

It’s a lie and both of them know it.  Refusing to let him get away with it, Louis gives Niall a single slap on the thigh and demands, “Tell me, Horan!”

 

Almost like he’s hiding away, Niall buries his head in Louis’ shoulder.  “Just promise me we’ll still be close,” he pleads, his voice high and his hands curling into tight, nervous fists.  “I know we have to stop being fake boyfriends now, but you’re my best friend and it would really, really suck if everything changed.”

 

Niall is trembling and Louis’ heart _hurts_.  “Oh, love,” he says quietly, his hands aching with how deeply he gets it.  If there’s anyone in the world that understands the terror of losing a friend, it’s Louis.  He slides off the couch to kneel in front of Niall, putting a comforting hand on each of his thighs.  “Who says we have to stop?”

 

Confused, Niall stares at him.  “Well, if you tell them, there’s no point in us being fake boyfriends.”  He makes a face.  “Right?”

 

“Right,” Louis agrees.  “But we can do all the same things!  We just don’t have to lie anymore.”  He grins, leaning forward to tap Niall on the chin just because.  It makes the corners of Niall’s mouth lift despite the way he’s nearly bitten through his lip.  “Remember how I said I wanna love people how I love people?”  He waits for Niall to nod.  “Well, this is how I wanna love _you_ , so I’m gonna keep doing it if that’s okay with you.”

 

With that, he leans over and presses a kiss to Niall’s mouth.  When he pulls away, Niall’s eyes are sparkling again.  “It’s okay with me,” he says needlessly, his grin telling Louis everything he needs to know.  “It’s definitely okay with me.”

 

“Good, because I’m not about to leave you alone _ever_.”

 

And Louis _doesn’t_ leave him alone for the rest of the day.  He kisses Niall in every room in the house, ignoring his little sisters’ shouts of e _w…grosssss!_ and pretending not to notice his mum wiping tears away.  When they finally have birthday cake and the kitchen is dark, light from the candles bouncing off the walls and making everything look glittery, Louis grabs Niall’s hand beneath the table and gives it a squeeze.  Niall just grins and squeezes him back and _that’s_ not complicated at all.

 

_-_-_-_

 

Once everyone is back at school, the club for foreign students throws their New Year’s party just like they do every year.  It’s two weeks late, but there’s good food and good company, so no one really minds.  All of Louis’ friends are gathered in a circle, sharing chairs and feeding each other terrible American chocolate while talking in terrible American accents and generally just being obnoxious.  Louis can’t help the way his heart swells as he watches them and it must show on his face, because Niall stops flirting with Jade long enough to smack him on the shoulder and ask, his grin mischievous, “You gonna cry on me?”

 

“I do not have a _face_ ,” Louis retorts because he knows exactly what’s coming.  “Leave me alone, you absolutely _horrid_ boy.”

 

“Aw, would you look at that?” Nick coos from Louis’ other side, addressing the group.  “Louis’ resolution this year is to reach his full Jackass Potential…and from the looks of things, he’s almost there!”

 

The joke is barely funny, but everyone breaks into giggles, wired from too much sugar and jetlag.  Even Louis can’t bite back a good-natured grin.  “Well, what’s _your_ resolution, then?” he asks, trying as hard as he can to glare at Nick.  It doesn’t really work.  “Bad hair?”

 

Harry squawks, ready to defend his boyfriend’s honor, but Nick only laughs.  “Yeah, something like that,” he says, rolling his eyes upward to look at his sky-high quiff.  “I’m well on my way.”

 

When his friends start chatting about their real goals for the new year – dumb stuff like going to the gym and eating healthy and sleeping more – Louis knows that it’s now or never.  When there’s a lull in the conversation, he clears his throat loudly and announces, “My goal for this year is to be more honest.”

 

They all turn to stare at him. 

 

“You don’t have, like, a kid or something, do you?” Jesy asks, scanning the room like she’s expecting a little tyke to crawl out from under someone’s chair.  “I mean, that’d be fine, but like… _damn_.”

 

Louis almost chokes on his spit.  “ _Hell_ no,” he says passionately, flapping his hands helplessly.  “No children.”  He digs into his back pocket and pulls out a stack of pamphlets from the Pride Center and tosses them to the floor, right in the middle of their circle.  “I am aromantic, though.”

 

He says it casually, but his heart still skips a beat inside his chest as his friends look from the pamphlets to Louis then back to the pamphlets.  All except Niall and Eleanor, of course, who are smiling at him with such pride that Louis can’t help but feel proud of himself, too.

 

Harry is the first to break the silence, saying, “That’s where you don’t fall in love, right?”

 

“Kinda,” Louis says, nodding.  “It’s where you don’t experience romantic attraction.  So, like, no crushes or soulmates or any of that gross shit.”

 

Satisfied, Harry nods and breaks into a huge grin.  “Cool!”

 

Laughter bubbles out of Louis’ mouth in surprise, relief running like cool water through his veins.  “Yeah,” he says.  “I guess it’s not so bad.”

 

It breaks the ice and all of a sudden his friends are chattering, mostly telling him that they had no idea.  Then Perrie asks the question that’s on the tip of everyone’s tongues, “So you’re _not_ dating Niall, then?”

 

“Nope!” Niall answers cheerfully, shooting Louis a grin.  He grins back, excitement zinging through him.  “We’re fake boyfriends.  Well, we _were_ anyways…now we’re just Niall and Louis.”

 

“Got a little tired of being picked at,” Louis explains as gently as he can.  As annoying and uncomfortable as it could be, he’d never once doubted that his friends’ hearts were in the right place.  “Figured I could probably avoid dates and matchmaking and stuff if I already had a boyfriend.”

 

“It’s a brilliant plan,” Perrie admits, laughing a little.  “But why didn’t you just tell us, babe?  Could’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”

 

Louis hunches down in his chair just the tiniest bit.  He can feel Niall’s eyes on him and it makes him braver.  “I was scared,” he reveals, his voice quiet as he stares at his lap.  “I was afraid you’d tell me it wasn’t real or that I was wrong about myself.”

 

“Why would you think that?” Harry asks and his brow is crinkled.  When Louis looks around the circle, all his friends look much the same way – their faces are filled with love and understanding and Louis feels stupid for ever doubting them.  But as quickly as the thought comes, he throws it out.  He’s not going to apologize for being scared.

 

“Because it’s what everyone’s been doing all along,” Louis says matter-of-factly.  “You guys, my mum, random people…I know you didn’t mean to, but every time you told me I just hadn’t found the right person yet, that’s exactly what you were saying.”

 

Louis can see the moment it hits them.  “Damn, we are _so_ sorry,” Leigh-Anne breathes out, pushing her hair out of her face.  “We fucked up.”

 

“A little bit,” Louis concedes, but he just shrugs and offers them a smile.  “You won’t anymore though and that’s what I love most about you guys!”

 

“Really?  I thought it was my fabulous figure!” Nick says seriously, stretching his long legs out in front of him to show them off.  It’s exactly what they need to fall back into the easy joking from before and everyone grabs ahold of it, wolf whistling at Nick and shouting for him to give them a twirl. 

 

Everyone, that is, except for Liam and Sophia, who are huddled around one of the pamphlets.  They keep shooting Louis guilty glances every few seconds and it nearly breaks his heart.  Quietly so as not to call attention to it, he shuffles over to them, falling into Liam’s lap without comment.  The poor boy looks absolutely devastated.  He opens his mouth to say something, but Louis holds his hand  up, cutting him off.  “Don’t do that, sunshine,” Louis whispers, taking Liam by the face and gently smoothing out his beard.  “You care about me so much and you’re so good to me…it’s all fine.”

 

Finally, Liam looks up to meet Louis’ eyes.  “But I…”

 

“It’s fine,” Louis repeats firmly, putting a hand on Liam’s shoulder and then reaching out for Sophia as well.  “I love you both so much, so how about you snap out of it and have fun before you make me mad?”

 

They know he’s kidding, but they both nod anyway.  “We’ll be better,” Sophia promises, getting to her feet.  Then she smiles her beautiful smile and flips her beautiful hair over her shoulder.  “And if you don’t mind, I’d kinda like to have my seat back.”

 

Delighted, Louis lets out a whistle and climbs out of Liam’s lap.  “It’s all yours, sweetcheeks!” he cries, his heart soaring. 

 

It’s only just starting to sink in – that it’s all out in the open and everyone loves him anyway – and he’s feeling giddy and like he’s on top of the world.  He races to the drink table in search of something caffeinated to amp him up even more and just as his hand closes on a can of Coca-Cola, a pair of slender arms circles around his waist.  Eleanor.

 

He turns around and falls straight into her, burying his face in her neck.  “I did it,” he whispers, breathing her in.  “I actually did it.”

 

“You did so good,” she praises him, rubbing his back.  Then she pulls away to point to their circle where Niall is grinning at them, bouncing on the balls of his feet and practically buzzing with excitement.  “But there’s someone over there even happier than me…I think your Niall wants a kiss.”

 

“Probably,” Louis deadpans.  “He’s the second neediest best friend I’ve ever had!” 

 

Then he shoots her a wink and races away.

 

_-_-_-_

 

The ocean looks even colder in the dark, its gigantic waves crashing onto the shore and roaring in Louis’ ears, but this time he’s dressed from head to toe.  He cuddles close to Niall on the blanket, their faces lit only by the moonlight.

 

“You know, this is really romantic,” Louis observes, shivering a little from the chill.  “This is practically those long walks on the beach everyone talks about.”

 

“Hmmm, you’re right,” Niall decides, then his face lights up in an evil grin.  “We should probably do something to remedy that!”  Without another word, he leaps to his feet and starts taking his clothes off, dropping them onto the sand without a care.  “I’m gonna win this time!” he cries before sprinting for the ocean’s edge, whooping at the top of his lungs.

 

“Niall, you gotta stop this!” Louis screams after him, but pulls his own clothes off all the same, the necklace hanging lonely against his bare skin.  He reaches the water at the same time as Niall and together they dive under the waves, staying under until they feel like they’re going to shake apart.

 

When they finally bust out of the water, they cling to each other and Niall yelps in delight, “I don’t think this is what boyfriends do!”

 

It floods Louis with warmth from the inside out, because it’s _not_ what boyfriends do…it’s what _they_ do and it’s perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> All the platonic love, H.


End file.
